


Bullet to the Head

by Blueberryshortcake



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 10:55:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14055420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blueberryshortcake/pseuds/Blueberryshortcake
Summary: South Dakota wakes up after getting shot. Now she has to figure out how to move forward when she keeps looking back.





	Bullet to the Head

“What are you gonna do, Wash? Shoot m–”

They say your life flashes before your eyes before you die.

And doesn’t it figure? Doesn’t it just top every other piece of shit she has to deal with? 

It isn’t her life that rushes towards her like the bullet about to explode into her skull.

It’s _his_.

-

_“Molly!? MOLLY!!!!”_

-

“Doctor Robertson, she’s waking up.”

“Wha–”

_“What are you gonna do, Wash? Shoot m–”_

“HOLY SHIT!” She tried to surge forward, maybe to tackle the ghost in her memory, but strong hands caught her, and then the pain caught up to her. “H-Holy shit!” She cried letting them carefully place her back on the bed. She looked around. Med bay, not Freelancer, seemed like general army.

“Where the **fuck** is my armor?” She hissed.

“Just slow down,” A sharp faced woman said. The doctor, or medic or whatever. “You’ve been through serious trauma.”

“Yeah. I was there. Where’s my armor, bitch?” She demanded again. There was a certain recovery agent she needed to track down and choke out.

“Calm down,” The doctor repeated. “Your armor is junk. It was destroyed protecting you from the explosion and rockslide.”

“Huh? Explosion? No…no, I was shot.”

You don’t forget something like getting shot by someone who’s psychological profile says he would never pull the goddamn trigger–

_“Slow down Molls.”_

Shut up **shut up**.

The Doctor sighed. “We found you under rubble. You have numerous broken bones along with second and third degree burns…those were the easy things to deal with.”

“I feel like a truck fell on me. You’re giving me drugs right?”

“Yes,” The Doctor didn’t roll her eyes. She was serious, which made South more edgy. “Your injuries were not minor, but your skin grafts took, and your breaks were mostly clean.”

“How long was I out?”

“Three weeks. Those injuries aren’t my worry.”

“What is then?” She demanded. She just wanted this conversation over. Why did people have to beat around the goddamn bush when there was bad news?

“You were shot…and the bullet is still in your head.”

South opened her mouth and closed it. She wanted to scream, but wasn’t quite sure what to scream about. “What?!” She finally settled on. “Get it out!”

The Doctor shook her head. “Digging in the brain to pull something out has more risks than benefits. It’s more likely to kill, or damage you.”

“How come I’m… I feel fine… actually I feel like shit, but I don’t feel like… brain damaged.”

The Doctor nodded. “The brain is a remarkable thing. It can compensate damaged areas… but…”

She hated buts.

“The bullet, it could still kill you.”

South started tapping her knee in agitation, which hurt, but helped her focus a bit. “Okay… but… you said you won’t take it out…”

The doctor sighed sympathetically. She seemed tired, South suddenly noticed. Noticed all the bandages coating her body too… fuck.

“Operation would be a higher risk than leaving it,” The doctor explained. “If we leave it, you have a chance of living a full, healthy life.”

But that was bullshit. She had a fucking bullet in her head. That was BULLshit.

“What are my chances of that fairytale?”

The Doctor shook her head. “I can’t give you a good answer I’m afraid. I would suggest taking it easy. Discharge.”

“Discharge?” She asked not quite getting it.

“We wouldn’t want you in the field. Your dog tags were missing, so when you can fill us in on a few details it’s probably a Purple Heart, and when you’re stable enough to travel, the next transport home.”

Home?


End file.
